By the Horns
by Avariel600
Summary: A Valen Fanfic! Blame the Shirtless Saga NWN board members who made me replay HotU :D I edited chapter 4 and 5 to include some cut content, since it was pointed out to me that it's risque factor wasn't as high as some other pieces of fiction on here.
1. Chapter 1

"Sir!" The drow saluted as he ran up, panting.

Four pairs of eyes glared at the dark elf. "Late again," growled the the tiefling, nearly hidden in the shadows of the room. "Do you take my orders as mere suggestion, Nithran?"

"No sir." The drow stared at him levelly, scarlet eyes meeting blue ones; the other drow shuffled away nervously as the tiefling's eyes narrowed.

"And how would you handle this situation, Lieutenant, if you were me?"

Nithran's eyes flashed dangerously, and he opened his mouth...

Afterwards, Valen thought it was probably better that the rebellious lieutenant never got to say a word. A ripping _crack_! filled the room, and a multitude of voices shouted in confusion as blinding white light flashed momentarily. He saw a white-haired figure appear from the thin air, skidding and tumbling across the floor, landing almost at the Seer's feet..._Nathyrra_. A second figure, small and lizard-like, spun head over heels and smacked into one of the Seer's guards, sending both of them to the ground. The last figure flew straight across the room; Valen caught a glimpse of black hair trailing behind the woman like a comet, and almost winced himself as she slapped into the wall, her head cracking against stone like an eggshell; she slid to the ground, weapons sliding from her suddenly lucid fingers, and landed in a heap.

The guards were moving before she even touched the floor; a bristling of weapons surrounded her, while one of the guards walked into the center of the room, holding the struggling kobold high. The Seer was helping Nathyrra to her feet, the slightly stunned drow woman whispering something into her ear. He shoved his way to where the guards had the other woman surrounded, pushing through the press of bodies; a guard pointed a sword in her face as she tried to stand up...

Immediately she scooped up her fallen weapon, and knocked the sword out of her face, practically snarling; one thought shot through his mind..._the Seer!_ He couldn't reach his flail strapped to his back in the press of writhing drow around him, but he quickly drew the dagger at his waist, and threw himself under the woman's downward swing, blocking the strike with a growl in his throat. He slammed her back against the wall, his blade at her throat; her slightly unfocused gaze suddenly sharpened on him, and a pair of deep, amber eyes narrowed, mere inches from his own.

"Back off," he snarled at her.

Half-stunned, with a dagger against her neck, she had the audacity to snap, "Make me."

"Enough!" The Seer pushed her way through a crowd of bristling drow; a slender, gentle hand pressed against the dagger he held, drawing the blade away from the girl's neck. The woman in question made no move, simply glared at him, her nostrils flaring furiously. "Back to your posts, everyone." The Seer interposed herself between both of them, shooting a sharp look in Valen's direction. "Do you not recognize one of our own? Nathyrra is with her." The drow woman looked at the woman against the wall thoughtfully. "This is the one we've been waiting for."

"Kerym!" Nathyrra was there, shoving against Valen. "You all right?"

He watched as the woman's shoulders sag slightly as she seemed to relax. She gingerly touched the back of her head. "Aye, I suppose." She winced. "I'm pretty sure my brains are swimming in my feet, right about now."

"Boss!" The kobold scampered up to them. "Deekin _flew_! It were amazing!"

The Seer mumbled an incantation in a low, unobstrusive voice; the air hummed with magic, and a warm glow suffused the three newcomers briefly. "We have much to speak of," the Seer said soberly, as her healing spell finished. "My guards will make up quarters for you in the meantime." She took the woman's...Kerym's...arm, and gently steered her away. He could feel the indignation rising off of him in waves...

Nathyrra shot him an amused glance. "Down boy," she said, laughter in her voice, before she turned to follow. The kobold scurried after, writing furiously on a piece of parchment he had miraculously draped over an arm. Valen stood alone in the room for a moment, watching the figures disappear through the door.

_Hells take it_, he thought. He checked his simmering anger, breathing deeply for a moment; and then, tail lashing wildly, he followed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come with me."

Valen glanced up from where he sat; Kerym was standing above him. He arched a brow in her direction as she squatted down to face him, their eyes level with each other. "Just because the Seer seems to think your some kind of prophetical savior doesn't mean that I do, as well. I don't believe in dreams." He eyed her warily for a moment; she wasn't bad to look at, he admitted grudgingly, although half of him wanted to write that off to the fact that she was merely different from the dark-skinned drow he saw every day.

And then she smiled, and Valen felt the growing knot of anger he had readied to throw up against her loosen completely at the sight of it. "Come with me, please."

Valen was silent for a moment...then he snorted. "It beats sitting around here and waiting for the Valsharess to descend upon us. Very well." He studied her for a moment. "And it'll allow me to keep an eye on you."

She inclined her head, smirking, an acknowledgment of his mistrust, before turning and setting off, the tiefling dogging her footsteps.

_Once a leader, now a follower._..it irked him no small amount that, after all he had done for the drow, they were perfectly willing to replace him as soon as some forewarned messiah was literally dropped in their laps _And she's done nothing for them, nothing at all, while my blood has been spilled alongside theirs. _ He watched the back of her head closely as she walked in front of him, an unexplainable feeling of unease settling in his stomach. He remembered how his skin had tingled when she had knelt close to him, and there was something odd about her that he couldn't quite place...

o o o o o o

She paused, and Valen just stopped short of running her over. She held up a hand to indicate silence, her fingertips almost touching his face from where he leaned over her shoulder as he peered into the darkness ahead of them.

A pause...then, she turned her head slightly, whispering, "Something's ahead. Tread lightly." Her heard a barely audible metallic _zing!_ as she drew her sword and slipped forward into the darkness, Valen following like a shadow...

Suddenly, a flash of light burst through the cavern, and he briefly saw her silhouette in stark contrast against a background of pure white; then the raging, shadowy shapes were upon them, magic and arrows flying in their direction. _The Valsharess's scouts_, he thought irritably, swinging his flail into the closest, screaming face at hand.

Immediately after that first blast of light, the cavern was almost immediately thrown into darkness once again; but now, as he sent drow flying in multiple directions, he glanced over to where Kerym was fighting; a steady, golden glow was building around the edges of her frame, and in his sudden surprise he almost lost his head, barely ducking in time beneath a particularly vicious swing from a drow soldier. He noticed, as well, that more drow were spilling over the top of the crevice, running towards them with cold determination on their faces...

He'd been outnumbered before, but they weren't out here to bleed the Valsharess of scouts; they didn't have time for a battle like this! He fought his way through to where Kerym was now glowing quite brilliantly; her features were cast in gold, molten amber shimmering in her eyes, and a look of almost unadulterated joy shone on her face. He pressed his back against hers, swinging the end of his flail into the kneecap of a drow trying to sneak up on her, and shouted, "We need to get out of here! There's more coming!"

"I don't know this place!" she shouted back; he could feel the heat from her skin permeating through his body like a burning brand, and his flesh was _crawling_. "You make a break for it, and I'll follow!"

_I can't let _you_ take rearguard,_ he almost snapped back; but it was true, the woman didn't know her way around the Underdark as he did, and there was no time to argue; he heard Kerym mutter words that he couldn't comprehend under her breath, and suddenly, a divine fire filled the cavern, and the drow were knocked back, screaming and batting out the flames. "Go!" she shouted.

He ran. He could feel her behind him as he dodged down corridors, and the light radiating from her body made it easier for him to see. But after the initial sprint was over, and they fell int an easy pace, he realized that the sounds of pursuit weren't getting farther away.

He ducked down a side tunnel and looked around wildly as she drew level with him, panting heavily. There! An overhang to their left made something of a recess in the wall, and he grabbed her arm roughly, ignoring the startled protest that flew from her lips. Hustling them both into the small, pitch black nook, he realized that, while it had faded considerably, the glow around his companion's body was still prevalent enough to be noticed.

"Damn it!" he cursed. "Can't you turn that thing off?"

"No," she hissed. "I can't control it; it just happens!" He could tell from the barely subdued panic in her voice that she realized hiding would be worthless if she was burning through the darkness like the sun at high noon. The sounds of the hunting drow were getting closer...

He grit his teeth, and pushed her all the way back against the wall; without saying a word, he rolled up against her, wedging himself between her and the entrance to their hideout. He tucked her head against his chest, his arms and legs stretching out and wrapping around her where they could. "Don't make a sound," he whispered against the top of her head; he felt her nod imperceptibly against his chest, and then there was nothing but the sound of lightly booted feet running past them, confused drow curses in the darkness, the shuffling of armor and steel.

_"Nind doerrus harl nindol i'dol?_" The drow speaking stood right in front of their hiding place, and he felt Kerym shudder slightly against his body; but she otherwise remained still as a corpse. Her hair felt like silk against his face, and he was shocked that, despite the presence of impending death a few feet from them, he had the sudden urge to rub his cheek against it, to feel it slide against his skin...

"_Udos orn ragar mina ka udos inbal ulu lor jal isto_." Shuffling feet, moving away from them, and more voices shouted at the other end of the cavern. They were moving away...

...she was not a tiny woman, but he was suddenly aware of how her waist curved inward neatly, his arm nearly encircling it in it's entirety, his fingers resting where her ribs curved downward underneath the swell of her breasts...

Suddenly, the air was stifling; thick and hot as they lay underneath the overhang. Valen forced himself to concentrate on the fading voices of the drow as they disappeared farther along through the cavern. He risked a glance downwards; her face was tilted back, looking at him, as if she could read his thoughts. She was no longer glowing, but there was a definite luminous sheen in her amber eyes still; they shone up at him in the darkness, two golden orbs of light, and he was uneasily reminded of the wolves that hounded the surface world. There was a deafening pause as they stared at one another; then Valen, understanding dawning on him, said quietly, "Aasimir."

"Guessed it in one," she replied, whispering; the sounds of their pursuers hadn't faded completely yet. "You should be pleased; one more reason for my lord part-demon to dislike me, yes?"

"I don't..." He cut himself off, glaring down at her in irritation. "Don't put words in my mouth, woman."

She arched an eyebrow up at him. "So you _do_ like me, then?"

He felt a flush of embarrassment, and couldn't even think of why. "I don't _trust_ you, Kerym, and anything beyond that is worthless until I do, don't you think?"

Suddenly, he felt her hand in the darkness, sliding against where the gap between his chest plate and greaves exposed the clothing he wore underneath his armor. Her fingers lightly touched him though the fabric, tracing where tunic disappeared into trousers, leaving a trail of pricking heat beneath his naval. "Then why, tiefling, are you still lying on top of me?"

He growled low in his throat; he moved to intercept her hand, but instead found himself pressing her fingers farther into his skin, flattening her palm low against his stomach so that he could feel the searing heat of her touch through the fabric. "Maybe I've a taste for celestial blood," he said; his voice was low, dangerous, deceptively calm, and he saw her nostrils flare as she sucked in a breath. He assumed, at first, that she was afraid; a lot of the drow women had been, and had run from him, like they very well should have. But the suddenly feral light that gleamed in her eyes, and the slight, upwards twitch at the corner of her mouth struck him like a thunderbolt.

She was _excited_.

His lip curled in a snarl, but he pushed himself away from her, crawling out of their hiding place. He heard her smother a chuckle as she crawled out after him; her sleek hair was a tousled mess, and as she stood she raised her hands, calmly smoothing it down again. Valen's insides were twisted into an impossible knot, his heart hammering so loudly against his chest he was certain the aasimar could hear it; but he leveled a cool gaze at her, inclining his head as if to say, _Ready?_

She imitated the gesture, and turned, setting off once more into the darkness. Valen followed; even after he had calmed his blood and silenced the thundering in his ears, his skin remained warm where her hand had pressed against him. Even after they'd walked through the endless tunnels for nearly an hour, and the rest of him was chilled with the cold underground air, that place still burned gently, sending a searing heat deep into his skin.


	3. Chapter 3

They were both dragging their feet; the beholders, the undead, the illithids; all gone, wiped out, and not without serious bloodshed on either of their parts. She trudged slightly behind him as he led the way to the public house that contained their rooms, her presence a mere tingle against the skin on the back of his neck. They were exhausted, drained, wounded, and footsore. He had made it a habit to walk her to her rooms; less of a chivalrous act, and more so stemming from the need to make sure that the Savior's "messiah" made it to her quarters unmolested_. And to make sure she stayed there._

His mind kept going back to her face, inches below his.

They would report to the Seer in the morning. He reminded her of this, as she trudged into her room under his watchful eye. She shot him an unreadable look before her door slammed behind her, and Valen couldn't explain why his breath had left his lungs in a rush.

_Yes, you can. You were holding it._

What did he expect her to do? Invite him in? He kicked his own door open, next to hers, and slammed it behind him, purposefully loud. _She's toying with you_, came the thought.

Maybe she was. But she was the first woman that hadn't shied from him like he was a monster. _Drow_ women had shied from him.

He absently peeled his armor off, touching the spot low on his stomach where her hand had been, so many days ago. It was still warm.

_Maybe it was worth being toyed with..._

o o o o o o

He found her seated at the counter when he finally had given up on sleep; he had tossed in his bed until the sheets were so twisted that he nearly had to cut himself out of them, and then he'd risen, donned a layer of clothing, and stumbled out into the common room.

It was nearly empty, except for a pair of drow that were talking quietly in the corner, the bartender, and her. She was bent over her drink, forehead resting in her hand, eyes half-closed. She didn't look up when he sat next to her, but he caught the half-smile that flitted across her mouth. "Can't sleep?"

"No."

The bartender looked at him curiously, but he shook his head; he hadn't come out here for a drink. She looked at him, then, her amber eyes hooded by her long lashes. She began asking him questions; where he'd come from, how he'd escaped the abyss, who his master had been. If he'd ever been in love. He found himself talking, desperately, telling his story blatantly, without artifice. He'd never had to tell it to anyone, before. No one had ever really asked. She listened, her head inclined towards him, staring down into her drink, the light falling against the soft line of her neck and shoulder, the wide collar of her tunic falling down the latter, taunting him with the sight of her bare skin until he thought he couldn't bear looking at her any longer...

And then he asked her everything that she had asked him. And she gave him an answer for most of it. "Rich merchant's daughter," she said. "Didn't want to get married off, so I apprenticed myself to a dwarf named Drogan." She grinned at him for the briefest moments, her intensity lost under a mask of wry self-deprecation. "I was so broke, I cleaned the entire academy for an year before he'd even let me train under him." She told him of her adventures, her travels, her companions, her sorrows. She arched her back, her arms extending above her head as she stretched. "Of course, if you wanted to know all of this, you could just ask Deekin; he wrote it all down, the damn clever kobold."

He watched the line of her body as she lowered her arms once again onto the bar top. When he met her eyes once more, she cocked an eyebrow at him jauntily, but there was a sudden heat there, filling those amber irises with liquid fire, and it made the blood rush into his face.

He walked her to her room again, as he always did. She turned to him as she opened the door; her head was slightly tilted back as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. She stood on tiptoe, and Valen's heart stopped; but she merely pressed her lips against his cheek, a chaste, completely innocent gesture, and he found himself suddenly and irrationally angry.

His tail lashed out, it's end curling around her wrist, stopping her as she pulled away. He stared down into her now-wide eyes, trying to hold his fury, his indignation, in check. "It's not polite to tease a demon, my lady," he whispered gruffly.

She blinked, and in that moment, the look in her eyes went from startled surprise to something darker, smoldering and confident; she slowly, deliberately, lifted her arm, turning her wrist and gripping the end of his tail in her hand. She stared at him for a moment, and then turned, brushing the tip of it against her lips; he felt his insides twist at the mere sight of her opening her mouth around the tip of it, her tongue slowly and sensuously drawing across the spaded end, the soft heat of her breath rushing against his skin in a gut-clenching caress. She glanced at him, the fingers of her other hand sliding down the length of his tail; his breath was coming hard and fast, his fists clenched at his side, an insistent, throbbing heat spreading throughout his body.

"Is this better, tiefling?" she whispered, breathless; desire was thick in her voice, and in the darkness of the hallway, her eyes were glowing slightly. "Am I being polite, now?"

With a savage snarl, he pushed her back through the open door to her room, his mouth crashing against hers in a ferocious hunger; he lashed out with an impatient kick as they crossed the threshold, and the door slammed behind them, echoing down the empty hall.


	4. Chapter 4

For a moment, she wondered if she'd pushed him a little too hard.

He was determinedly pushing her back, his mouth working savagely against hers, sucking her lower lip between his teeth. His fingers...gods, his fingers were everywhere at once, his tail wrapping around her thigh and pulling her leg up around his waist so that the hard, throbbing length of him pressed between her legs. The back of her calf bumped into the edge of her bed, and then his hands gripped her waist, lifting her off her feet; her mouth came away from his as he shoved her backwards, and she sprawled across the bed, an ill-concealed squeak passing her lips. Her heart was racing as she waited, tensed; he bent forward, placing his hands on either side of her, and began to crawl up the length of her body. Nudging her legs apart, he knelt between them; his eyes burned a pale blue in the dark, and they trained steadily on her face as he gently took the bottom edge of her tunic in his teeth, and began to slowly draw it up her torso.

She arched against him, her fingers digging into each side of the bed as she bit back a whimper; the feel of his lips against her skin, his warm breath trickling up towards her breasts, twisted the heat between her legs into an impossible knot. A hand followed the trail his mouth had made, stroking the flat of her stomach; the tips of his fingers brushed over her nipple, which stiffened as the palm of his hand soon followed, guiding the rest of her shirt over her head and down her arms. His mouth opened against her throat, running his teeth gently along the skin where her blood pulsed close to the surface; he could have clamped down, could have ripped out her throat if he'd wanted; she'd seen him do just that to so many of their foes. Yet his jaws barely caught against her soft flesh, impossibly tender, and she sucked in her breath as his mouth moved to her ear, and he whispered, "Watch me."

He straightened, his eyes on hers. Slowly, deliberately, he began unlacing the front of his tunic, his burning gaze trailing down her body. The tunic slid from his shoulders, and pure, unadulterated _wanting_ shot through her at the sight of his muscled torso, gleaming in the dim light from the lichen on the walls, his face shadowed underneath the long fall of his red hair. He whispered, again, "Watch." He ran a hand down the front of his abdomen, fingers delving into the soft trail of hair that disappeared into the top of his trousers; he slowly began loosening the knot at his waist that held them closed, his fingers brushing against his own skin and pulling a soft sigh from his lips. She could barely stand it; she sat up, reaching forward, just to touch that hardened bulge that pressed out against the fabric between his legs, but a hand pressed flat between her breasts and shoved her back down onto the bed.

A feral, mischievious grin crossed his lips as he held her down. Eyes glowing, meeting her gaze once again, he murmured, "I said watch."

She swallowed hard and relaxed under his hand, and when he was sure she would remain so, he pulled it away.

The laces came undone. He slid his fingers between the edge of his trousers and his skin, and she sucked in her breath as he pushed them down off of his hips, revealing the long, hardened length of him to her gaze. He slowly worked the trousers lower, letting out a sharp, longing gasp as his fingers brushed against his shaft, his head arching back. Kerym echoed him, her eyes wide and lips parted, twisting the bedsheets beneath her fists as a her body clenched; it took all of her control to remain flat on the bed. One leg was free; he traced his fingers up the inside of his thigh, his eyes meeting hers once again; a wicked smile played on his lips as he bent to maneuver his remaining leg, his face dangerously close to where her legs came together below her naval. She squirmed as he barely nuzzled her cleft through the thin fabric encasing her lower body. His fingers grazed against himself once again as he slid the other side of his trousers down his leg, and he exhaled so forcefully against her that she cried out, the heat from his breath nearly sending her over the edge.

And then he was free, glorious bare skin exposed to her hungry eyes. He tugged at her trousers, sliding them down her hips, and a delighted shiver ran up her spine as she felt cool air caress her aroused flesh. Once again, she propped herself up on her elbows, and a slow, lazy smile curled her lips.

He let out a mock growl, his voice dangerously low as he reached for her. "I thought I told you-"

"Sorry," she said. "The show's over." And before he could blink, she pounced.


	5. Chapter 5

He was on his back before he knew what had happened, her mouth fused against his; she slid against him, all softness and sun-scented skin, and he nearly bucked her off as his lower extremities clenched against the contact with her warm flesh. He let out a shuddering gasp, his head arched backwards over the edge of the bed, as her tongue ran over his nipple in a slow, lazy lick. She repeated the process, his skin hardening under her mouth; he half-closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation...

...and she promptly and savagely sank her teeth into his flesh, grinding her hips down against him.

He spasmed, a cry ripped from his throat before he could stop it, mingling with her laughter. He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes as she smiled down at him. "Woman," he said breathlessly, "You're going to be the death of me."

"Oh, I don't know." She ran her tongue over her lips. "I suppose I merely have a taste for demon's blood."

And then he was laughing and twisting his hips, throwing her down onto her back. "I have a taste for something else, my lady." And once again he was in control, pinning both her hands high above her head against the bed, her body stretched in a taut line below his. He wrapped one, large hand around both her wrists, and ran his other down her arm, across her breast, where he ran his thumb over her erect nipple. She shuddered under his touch; his fingers continued downwards, tracing the flat plane of her stomach; he glanced upwards. She was looking down at him, wild-eyed, a soft, golden glow permeating her eyes. His mouth twitched, half-smiling, before he slid his hand between her legs, his fingers plunging into her flesh.

Her head threw back against the bed; she pulled, strained, struggled against his grip, her legs writhing, but he held her down. His lips tasted her skin while his fingers expertly manipulated her, the soft sounds of pleasure she made driving him onward. His mouth was against her neck when she came; her body arched against him as his name passed her lips. "Valen," she gasped. She said it, again, and again. "Valen."

The feel of her body releasing underneath his touch, her voice breathing against his ear, nearly pushed him over the edge himself...he pressed his mouth against hers, his heart hammering in his ears, and carefully guided himself into her.

She tightened around him instinctively, and he let her hands go, losing himself completely. Her hands slid to his waist as he began thrusting, gripping just above his hips, and he leaned forward onto his elbows, his face above hers, red hair falling around her like a curtain. Their breathing came in quick, ragged gasps, their lips brushing together in tantalizing half-kisses; her fingernails dug into his skin as she riposted against him. At one point his tail wound it's way around her waist, fusing the sparse inches still left between them together. He was lost in a world of heat and clenching sensation, of salty skin and glowing amber eyes, and when release came, he cried out, loud and sharp and long, his head thrown back, his eyes glowing white hot in the darkness.

When his body was returned to him once again, he looked down at her, awed and terrified all at once. Her mouth curled into a smile; he touched a finger against her bottom lip, a confused wave of tenderness jolting through him. "We should have done this a long time ago," he said quietly.

"Mmmmm." She inhaled deeply, sliding her arms around his neck, stretching her satisfied body against him luxuriously. "We have some time to make up for it," she whispered, and lifted her head, kissing him gently.

The lichen pulsated softly on the walls behind them; for a moment, their silhouettes merged, and two shadows became one.

o o o o o o

He was singing the lewdest song she had ever heard at the top of his lungs, disregarding the confused looks the drow that they passed were giving him. Smothering her snickers against the sleeve of her tunic, she followed; they had packed, geared up, bought supplies, and were now on their way to Lloth's temple to meet the Seer, just as they'd planned.

They hadn't planned spending the night in the same room. She was sure he hadn't planned on strapping every piece of her equipment on her body himself. She had laughed at him, her entire frame shaking, arms outstretched as he worked the buckles and straps, cursing at her as she moved her foot around while he tried to tie on her boots. He more than likely hadn't planned on pushing her back once more on the bed, smothering her laughter with his mouth.

She hadn't planned on the lightness in her heart. When you ready yourself to fight a war, you shouldn't be grinning like a damn fool. And most certainly not singing bawdy tavern songs.

He glanced back at her, blue eyes flashing; a wickedly sly smile stole over his face, and he winked at her before turning back to their path, taking up his song once again.

_Well. Maybe the singing part is all right._


End file.
